


Wishing Stars

by loveiscosmicsin



Series: Collection of Completed FFXV Pairing Week Prompts 2017 [8]
Category: FF15, FFXV - Fandom, Final Fantasy 15, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blind Character, Character Death, Chocobros - Freeform, Constellations, Focus in the beginning isn't romantic though the pining is there, Gen, IgNoct, Ignis is a father, Ignoct Week, M/M, Mutual Pining, Older Party Chocobros, World of Ruin, ignoctweek, prompt, revival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 19:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11721399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveiscosmicsin/pseuds/loveiscosmicsin
Summary: Day 5: Constellations/Ignis manages to use the last of his magic in him to bring Noctis back from the dead when he finds him on the throne.“Let’s have our last conversation right now.”





	Wishing Stars

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a larger story to this with Ignis’ daughter, Ignis, and Noctis, but for now: this prompt’s in Noctis’ POV and a foregone conclusion on how this plays out. There's an explanation on how Ignis managed to bring Noctis back to life. Maybe some side stories to this.

“Hey, Specs,” Noctis whispered, keeping his distance. “You up?”

No answer other than the strategist’s shoulders going stiff.

“I know you can hear me.” Noctis pressed again, keeping his tone light-hearted and soft as possible. If he must wake him with a kiss then so be it.

After a weary sigh, Ignis rolled over to confront the persistent voice next to him. “Yes, Noct?”

“You can’t sleep, can you?” Noctis asked though he knew the answer perfectly well. Prompto had his limbs stretched out over Noctis’ side and Gladiolus’ snores were equivalent to a sawmill. But that’s not what kept him up.

Ignis propped himself on his elbow and pinched the bridge of his nose. Noctis refrained from gasping when the sparks of the dying campfire gently illuminated the scars on his face. “No, I couldn’t. We’ve a long battle before us soon.”

It was clear that sleep was never come no matter how long they laid in bed and closed their eyes. Noctis spent ten years of his life sleeping and Insomnia was nearly within reach. There wouldn’t be another chance at this.

“You can’t sleep, I can’t sleep.” The king said in a sort of musical tune if he had a bucket, but he was saving that one for later. “Wanna just step out and talk for a bit? Just you and me.”

Ignis drew a sharp inhale, hesitant. “I…” Noctis waited patiently for an answer and he had nothing but time to hear a yes or a no. The strategist groped around for his visor and slid them on his face. “Of course.”

Noctis helped Ignis step over their slumbering companions and lifted the flap of the tent out for him. Ignis walked toward the one of the Coleman chairs gathered by the extinguished campfire and sat down. Noctis took the one closest to his.

The king looked up at the night sky, once filled with a plethora, the same ones he and his friends would watch for hours, nothing he would find in the Crown City due to the heavy light pollution. Then ten years later, Eos was enveloped in darkness and what remained of humanity lit up their world with lanterns and generators to keep the daemons away. Amid the myriad of artificial lights and the invasive darkness swallowing the world day by day, it was undeniable that this cannot continue. He held out his hand and an ash-like substance floated down to his palm, one of the many parasites that eclipsed the sun. A miasma loomed over them, sickly, a constant reminder of demise, that threatened to devour all. The Light will be restored to the world again and the blood debt paid.

“Noct?” Ignis raised his head, slightly turning to locate the king.

“Right here.” Noctis touched Ignis’ arm.

“What is it would you like to talk about?”

Ignis had been avoiding him and Noctis wanted to know why, but he also didn’t want to pry. The king thought that after all that’s been said that one more conversation wouldn’t hurt, but every passing moment cut him deeply. There was something unresolved between them.

Physically, the king was thirty, but mentally and emotionally, in his twenties. Even with his death sentence and his determination to follow it through, he had the heart of a twenty year old man. The strategist was still the same Ignis as he remembered, just older and hardened, an exterior that no doubt manifested in the world Noctis left behind. Ten years was a long time. More than plenty for a person’s heart to change.

Noctis wondered if Ignis still felt the same way about him. About them. If Noctis wasn’t forced in the crystal for a decade and didn’t have a prophecy to fulfill, would they still be in love with each other during those years? Even more?

“I’ve said what I had to at dinner,” Noctis swallowed, forcing down the foolish, unrealistic thoughts of rekindling romance down. He couldn’t dare propose anything like that. “I had time to take Gladio and Prompto aside… Saved you for last.”

“For our talk.” It wasn’t a question, but Ignis must’ve known what he agreed to.

“Let’s have our last conversation right now.”

“I cannot do that.” Ignis’ scarred lip quivered, his voice feeble. “I don’t want this… I don’t want to remember this being our last…”

Noctis expected as much, but a smile formed on his lips. There was a time that their positions were switched on the matter, Noctis had found out the Wall was slowly killing his father and Ignis was insistent on readying him for succession. The fight was explosive and they made up in the end. If only Noctis knew if this was where they would end up, he would’ve made an effort to make that discussion better. But how does one segue from duty and sacrifice to a peaceful understanding, he didn’t know how. They were teenagers then.

“If not now, then I don’t think we’ll get another chance at this.” Noctis said slowly. Even in the darkness and light from the dying embers, he could make out Ignis’ tired eyes and wisps of chestnut hair framing his face. “I… want to have our last conversation now. While there’s still time.” Without thinking, he reached out to brush a strand away and behind an ear. Ignis relaxed slightly under his touch.

“So, Noct,” Ignis shifted in his seat, joining his hands together after what passed for an eternity. “How do we begin our last conversation?”

“Heh, I was hoping you would know.” Noctis reflected for a moment. “Uh, how about I ask how you are? How are you, Ignis?”

A tiny smile bloomed on Ignis’ face. “Dreadful, Noct. Dare I confess, petrified and frustrated, as well.”

“Huh. That’s not an ‘okay’ or a 'fine’ so that sounds pretty bad.”

“Quite.” Ignis turned his ruined eyes to the king. “My apologies.”

“For what?”

“For many things, but right now, for ruining our last conversation.”

Noctis shrugged, fighting the twisted knots in his gut. “It’s not over yet.” It was his fault for starting the conversation with a 'How are you?’ in the first place. If Ignis asked him the same thing, he wouldn’t be able to answer. At least Ignis was honest.

“I’m not saying the right things.” The strategist had his head in his hands. He rarely minced words, picking logic over emotion.

“But are there ever the right words? If there were, I’d like to know.” Noctis wondered aloud. He went through the same thing talking to the three of them together and two more times with just Gladiolus and Prompto. It didn’t get any easier no matter how many times or ways he had to say it. “I’m sorry I’m leaving so soon.” He whispered apologetically. Ignis’ avoidance was clear now, he was grieving.

“As am I.” Ignis admitted meekly. “We could’ve rebuilt Insomnia and grown old together…”

Noctis laughed, dry and wound with emotion. “That’s where I’m kinda glad. With the crystal and this family heirloom around my finger, you guys’d be chained with some old geezer cramping your style.” He touched his hair, some springy silver strands have made themselves known and when he looked in a mirror, it was his father’s face staring back at him.

“Is that what you think?” Ignis raised a delicate eyebrow slightly. “Well, I suppose if you continue to speak like that. You might not find leniency for speaking in antiquated colloquialisms, crystal sleep or not.”

“Respect your elders, you whippersnapper.” Noctis attempted at his old person voice, channeling his inner Cid. “You know what the problem with today’s youth is?” Ignis shook his head. “They’re young.”

Ignis laughed at his horrible impression and Noctis joined in, their joined peals pierced the vast night sky and melted the tension between them.

“In all seriousness, you could certainly stay with us. Your appearance has never been of any consequence to me.” Ignis bore a ghost of a smile, distant as he lifted a hand and caressed the back of his fingers against the king’s fringe. “You are beautiful now as you were then.”

Noctis snorted, but couldn’t help to acknowledge the flood of warmth within him when the strategist’s fingertips grazed his forehead, tracing cheekbones. The love he felt toward the brunet was still there. “If you say so, Specs. So…” He mustered the courage to change the subject. “Redo?”

Ignis nodded. “Redo.”

“Can I ask another question?”

“By all means,” Ignis made a sweeping gesture. “You have the floor.”

“What have you been up to for the past ten years?”

“Mhm. Intensive training under the Marshal and Aranea, exploring the Royal Tombs with Talcott, daemon hunting, and when I had the time, preparing seafood cuisine for Cid.”

Noctis got the gist of those activities from Talcott and the guys in passing, it was hard to keep up when he had many questions. But while he hadn’t heard the details of what had transpired, that’s not what he wanted to hear. “I mean, your life away from the fighting and facing death head on without so much as batting an eye. The normal stuff.” A thought struck him. “Prompto said you have a daughter.”

“Ah,” Ignis exhaled softly, his expression softening. “Yes, Kalara. She’s in Lestallum staying with a friend.”

“Wow, look at you. Didn’t see fatherhood coming.” A nagging feeling gnarled at him, but he wanted to ask. “Her mother. Is she…?”

“Kalara lost both of her parents when she was an infant.”

“So you’re a single parent.”

“Yes. I owed her parents a huge debt. They were excellent Hunters and dear friends. Since she didn’t have any surviving relatives to go to, I thought I could finally repay that debt by taking her in.”

“How old is she?”

“She’s eight.” Ignis paused, reaching in his jacket pocket and held out a photograph. “Prompto took this recently.”

Noctis took the photograph and studied the glossy paper closely. A little girl with a few missing gaps in her teeth was beaming up at him, forest green eyes with captivating and full of wonder at the age. She wore denim overalls with patches and various pins and had her bushy brown hair tied back in a plait. Kalara was on her knees, the floor was littered with strips of paper and pastel paper stars, and above her were multi-colored fluorescent lights.

“Looks like Prompto’s taught her some tips on modeling,” Noctis smiled at the girl’s peace sign at the camera. “She’s a cute kid. I see some of you in her.”

“That’s what I’ve been told. I love her as my own, regardless of how few commonalities we share.”

“So what’s the story behind the paper stars?”

“Do you remember when we used to make them?”

“Yeah.” Noctis thought for a second longer. “No.” He tried again. Ignis made it sound like it was important. All he could recall were Gladiolus’ pillow forts and pestering Ignis to stay awake until the clock struck 11:11 so that the three could make a wish. “Maybe. Wishing stars?”

“Collect enough stars to fill a jar and it’ll grant you one wish.” Ignis confirmed. “I haven’t been home as much as I’ve liked for Kalara so we worked on a small project together. When I embarked for Hammerhead, it was close to completion.”

“Hmm, a lot of work for just one wish,” Noctis looked at the picture again, feeling empathy for the girl. He briefly reminisced a time when all he desired was for his father to spend more time with him. He had lost his gumption and pointed to an ancient sword on a wall as if that was his heart’s greatest desire. “Wonder what she’ll use that wish on.” Though the king felt that he knew the answer to that already. He handed the photograph back. “Was it hard raising her?”

“At first, yes. When she was two, Kalara was unable form phrases like children should at that age. I suspected it was trauma-related. You couldn’t imagine my shame when Cid sat me down to discuss this.”

“What did he say?”

“He offered to raise her. I confess, I nearly agreed to it. She was a restless soul, understood what loss felt before she could utter her first word.”

“So what happened?”

“We started to communicate with sign language. Then… One day, she started speaking as if she had been all her life. She’s a clever one. I think she understood my burdens and how to process all she went through.”

“Think she would’ve liked me?” Noctis asked, knowing that it was an useless question. He couldn’t help growing attached to someone he never met.

“I believe she already does. I told her stories she can’t seem to get enough of. Kalara treats them as legends as she does about stars.”

Wounded, the kind placed a hand over his chest. “So I’m imaginary now?”

“It’s a compliment. Sir Wooficorn always has a place reserved at the table.”

“Sir Wooficorn?”

“Her stuffed spiracorn. Dashing fellow with a rainbow bow tie.”

Something about what Ignis said about legends bothered him and it wasn’t about what kind of stories Ignis might’ve shared. “You said she treats stars like legends?”

“Understand that,” Ignis sighed, a somber expression on his face. “the current state of our world is what she considers normal. She’s known darkness for as long as I have.”

Kalara was eight years of a world without the sun and stars. She hadn’t known the sun’s warmth on her skin nor looked up at the sky without wondering if there were mysteries, people out there with the same questions and goals as her.

While the world moved on and decayed without him, Noctis hadn’t considered of children born during those ten years. Talcott was only nine at the time, but he remembered how the world was before this. Humans were slaughtered if they dare leave the safety of fortified bastions or when the security measures fail. They encounter the perils of the plague that transformed them into daemons, corroding their humanity from the inside out until nothing remained. But the children who huddled close to the harsh floodlights and played behind gated electrical walls was their childhood.

“Not for long,” Noctis said firmly. “We’ll take it all back.”

Ignis inclined his head, but his posture was taut as a string about to snap. The cost to bringing light to the world was a price he didn’t wish to pay. He, Gladiolus, and Prompto will take him to Insomnia.

But Noctis wanted to give Ignis a future and a world to raise his daughter in. The world was bigger than one last king. The world would still go on without him long after he’s gone. He made his choice. His friends can take care of whatever came to pass. Everything will be all right. He knew it would be.

“Hey,” Noctis touched Ignis’ shoulder. “Feels like this was most we’ve said in a long time. Kinda weird, isn’t it? Thanks for that, my…” His voice wobbled as he wished a final farewell to the man who was both his companion and lover, “friend.”

Ignis turned his head quickly, his lips parted, but quickly closed. The strategist’s fingers curled around the king’s wrist, moving it away from his shoulder. He shook his head vehemently as if casting away something on his mind. “I’m glad I can give that to you, Noct…” He said finally as he bowed his head, his forehead touched the top of Noctis’ hand.

-

For what tomorrow may bring, at least the darkness will be banished, the world will be saved.

Tomorrow will present new challenges, new conflicts, allowing for resolutions to take place, but at least the future can be safely entrusted to the right hands. Life will go on.

The Savior of the Star, the Chosen King of Light’s life was fading like a dying sun. The flames incinerating his flesh and veins were dulled, pain and semblance of what was Noctis Lucis Caelum, too, were to pass. As he went and while he was still himself, Noctis thought if this was enough.

He thought it was.

There was a white-hot glow burning in his pocket, what remained of Noctis’ mind recognized the pain, familiar to the Ring of the Lucii but the accessory had long disintegrated. How did it get there? He reached down while he still could, cool to the touch, an ancient aura surrounded it. This ring was unlike anything he could describe, the words fail him, vocabulary corroding away from comprehension.

The ring’s power coursed through him like a current, and suddenly, he trusted the feeling. It was so many things, yet he accepted it without question, somehow.

He closed his eyes at long last.

“-oct? Noct! Come on… You—!”

Constant noise filtered through as if they were taking place above the water’s surface or trying to communicate from a great distance.

“Prom—”

“—word in his…ing! Gut! I can’t believe—!”

Distractions continued to thunder, making it difficult to focus on just one sound, it was all too disorienting. There were too many sources to pinpoint. It was a cacophonous orchestra of the same notes.

“Leave him? We can’t just… The least we can—”

“Iggy, we need to…”

“I know.”

Metal clanged against a hard surface.

Endless drifting saw to its end like a puzzle piece had finally clicked back in place. An identity had been reclaimed and a flood of emotions rushed forth.

A gasp escaped his lips, almost as if he had been holding his breath for who knew how long. Air slowly filled his lungs as he awakened to three stunned faces staring back at him.

“N-Noct!” The blond spluttered. “Are… are you seeing this?” He slammed his palm against his burly companion’s side several times. “He’s not going to eat our brains or anything, right?”

Noct. With a trembling hand, he touched his chest, the fabric of a once-refined garb now singed and skewered, had seen better days. He retracted his hand and saw blood had pooled from his chest, he had been impaled multiple times. Each of the wounds had ceased bleeding, but the pain was as fresh as ever on his mind.

“Yeah, I think that’s him.” The burly companion answered, disbelief paralyzed him. “But how…”

Noctis fell forward and the bespectacled man was the swiftest to appear his side, embracing him as he seated the confused man upon the throne, his hands never left his shoulders.

“Do you remember where you are?” He asked, centering himself before him. “Take your time.”

“I died.” Noctis replied, glancing up. Ignis. This man was Ignis. They were in the throne room. Tears begun to well in his eyes. “Am I dreaming? Please don’t wake up if this is.”

“It’s not and you better believe it,” Gladiolus took a step forward, his grin uneasy. “Guess the devil didn’t know you were dead after all.”

Prompto ran forward and crushed Noctis into a hug. “I don’t know what happened but you don’t hear me complaining.” He sniffed. “It’s you, it’s really, really you!”

Noctis patted his back and he laughed despite doing so set his chest off fire. The pain reminded him that he was alive. “Wait, wait,” he held Prompto back, searching his companions’ faces. “The prophecy! Did I fulfill it? Did the Light return?”

A small smile formed on Ignis’ lips. “Let’s find out.”

Noctis’ legs were still feeble, but Ignis and Prompto stayed close to his side, the three of them forgiving of the king’s pace when they anticipated the outcome of their final battle. There was no race to be had as they were going the same way.

Gladiolus shoved the doors leading out of the palace open. “Come on, I know just the spot.” He said, leading the way.

A gold hue kissed the horizon and smiles were stretched out in both directions. The darkness that had kept the light at bay parted like clouds. The sun had cast its shadows behind fixtures and ruined skyscrapers of a long-lost battle. There, the four heroes silently witnessed the first sunset that Eos had in a decade.

-

The four of them returned to Hammerhead to spread the good news. Despite the weariness in his bones and the grievances given on his recently revived condition, Noctis decided to disembark for Lestallum. It wasn’t to make an announcement that Light had been restored to the world, it was already morning, and he highly doubted that anyone would care how that came to be or who was responsible for it. The daemons were gone and the reconstruction could begin. Gladiolus and Ignis had family there and Prompto tagged along with the group. Noctis had a feeling that Ignis wanted to leave anyway, there was someone waiting for him.

People, refugees and Hunters, flooded the streets of Lestallum to greet the day. It was so easy to disregard natural forces and take them for granted, day came after night, with night came the stars, with clouds followed by rain, cycles that weren’t appreciated enough.

“Papa!”

“Kalara?” Ignis turned his head.

The girl that the king had seen in the photograph ran toward the four men, cradling a messenger bag in her arms. A woman with graying hair tied back in a bun and wearing a EXINERIS Industries uniform had the poor misfortune of chasing the determined child.

Kalara halted in place, green eyes wide with astonishment, she gawked at the king and to her defense, he understood why. Gladiolus and Prompto played a role in this little girl’s life, Noctis was a stranger.

What surprised him was she continued onward. Kalara didn’t stop and she didn’t stop walking until she stood just a few feet before the king. She lifted the flap of the bag to pull out a glass jar filled with paper stars and held it out to Noctis. A crease in her brow born out of apprehension and desperation, and yet she stood her ground like this was the very mission she was sent out for.

This jar of stars was meant for Noctis.


End file.
